Trying to Move On one shot Narnia fanfic
by Brackster
Summary: Susan's back at school after 15 years in Narnia and is having a tough time trying to get back to normal life.


Time to Move On - a Narnia Fanfic

Susan stood on the lacrosse pitch in the hot summer sun, her lacrosse stick limp in her grip as she gazed across the shared fields to where a class from the boys school across the road were shooting arrows at large wicker targets. Susan sighed. Archery was one of the few sports she was passionate about, as she had become quite an expert archer during her fifteen years in Narnia. It was only a few weeks since they'd left, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Alongside her brothers and sister she had ruled the glorious land and taken it into its golden age. But it was all over now, Susan kept telling herself. She had to put it behind her and get on with her life in the real world - she was no longer royalty and animals could no longer talk.

Suddenly, a small, round object flew straight past Susan and slammed into the net behind her. A cheer went up from the other end of the pitch. Susan looked round to see Bertha, the tall, thick set bully who was the captain of her team heading straight towards her. She fixed her eyes on the archers once more, pretending not to notice the large girl until she was almost breathing down her neck.

"Oh, hello Bertha! Is something the matter?" Susan asked, putting on an innocent tone that reminded her of Lucy.

"If you were paying attention to the game then you'd know that yourself!" Bertha thundered, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her lacrosse stick tightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just watching the archery. It makes lacrosse seem such a dull sport in comparison." Susan said in the same innocent, conversational, friendly tone. The other girls watched, shocked at the normally quiet, studious Susan's sudden outspokenness. None of them would have dared bait Bertha like that - and none of them ever dreamed that Susan Pevensie of all people would have done so!

"You've been watching the archers - the boys instead of our lacrosse game?" Bertha asked threateningly.

"I believe that was what I said, yes." Susan mused, not quite believing what she was saying herself - this was Bertha she was talking to, so why didn't she feel at least the little bit intimidated?

"The one with the red hair?" Bertha growled, her grip on her lacrosse stick tightening even further.

"Oh yes," Susan enthused "His technique is awful - no wonder he's doing so badly."

"That's my brother you're talking about! And he's hitting the blue." Bertha's voice was dangerously low.

"Hmm, but still, blue isn't that good really, is it?"

"He'd doing a darn sight better that your brother is!" Bertha said as the tall, blonde haired form of Peter Pevensie fired an arrow, only managing to hit the black.

"Peter's a swordsman, not an archer." Susan said coolly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Bertha laughed

"Peter's a swordsman, not an archer," she mimicked. "Hey! Jim!" she shouted across to her brother "Little Susan Pevensie here reckons that she can beat you at archery!"

Jim laughed "Yeah, I'd like to see her try!" he yelled back. Susan sighed.

"If that's they way you want it..." she muttered, tossing down her lacrosse stick and sprinting over to where the boys were stood. Peter tried to stop her as she took a bow off one of the other boys and tested the string with her fingers.

"Su, come on..." he began, trying to take the bow off his sister.

"Shut it Pevensie." Jim interrupt. Susan looked at Peter with a small smile.

"I know what I'm doing, Peter." she reassured him. Carefully, she knocked an arrow, running her fingers along the shaft and slotting the base firmly against the string. Smoothly, she drew back the string, raised the bow, aimed and released. The feeling of the flax of the bowstring rubbing against her fingers as it protested about being drawn back, the twang as it snapped back into its original position and the whistling of the arrow as it flew through the air and thudded into the target brought back so many happy memories of her time in Narnia that it was a few seconds before Susan noticed that her arrow had directly hit the bulls eye. Spurred on by this, within a few minutes she had sent two more arrows flying into exactly the same place before turning on her heel to face Bertha, who was still stood on the lacrosse pitch, and embedding an arrow firmly into the handle of her lacrosse stick. One of the boys let out a low whistle

"Wow, good shot." he muttered to his neighbour.

"What do you mean? I missed." she replied dryly.

"Susan Pevensie! What are you doing?" the shrill voice of her teacher echoed across the field. Susan groaned inwardly as she saw Miss. Swoop, the girls games mistress crossing the field with Mr. Rowland - the games master from the boys school. She was in trouble now...

Susan grinned to herself as she scrubbed the floor of the gym corridor. True, she had to stay inside and scrub the floors every weekend and evening for the next month, she'd had to give up her pocket money to replace the lacrosse stick and arrow she had damaged those strokes with the cane had hurt - she still found it painful to flex her hand, but one thing satisfied her - it was all worth it. Not that she was going to try it again. She'd had one last bit of fun, but now she'd learnt her lesson. She had to leave Narnia behind. It was time to get back to the real world.


End file.
